Loose Stitching
by Voyager Wisp
Summary: Such a small effort can't fix anything.


Note: Originally written for Yuletide2019/BrokenBase on ao3.

.

Perhaps things would be different this time. Shaking up the dice, things could be changed. That was why Rika had lived through so many worlds. Calamity could be overcome, as long as one was patient enough. If she just waited, change would happen. The terrible outcomes could be avoided. Would things be different this time?

They wouldn't. Rika frowned, staring at the small pile of clothing, which contained her still ripped school-approved uniform. She hadn't even been able to avoid whatever thing tore at them, much less her mother noticing and promising to fix it, though she continually put it off. Now her extra school uniform was dirty, and she'd have nothing appropriate, then get scolded by the teacher. The stand in uniforms weren't even that cute. The one Mion would eventually give her would be, but that was a while down the line. In the meantime, she just needed something.

"Oh, Rika," her mother said, stepping out the kitchen where she was preparing what Rika recalled was a fairly disgusting meal. How boring was this day going to get? "Are you going to get started on your homework?" came the undesired question.

Before Rika could object, her randoseru was opened, the referred to work taken out. "I'm done," Rika informed in what she supposed was a sweet voice. Her mother met her eyes, the expression showing disapproval for whatever reason. Could she guess that Rika had cajoled one of her classmates to do the assignment for her, not feeling like repeating the work yet again this day? Probably, but that classmate wasn't exactly a mess, so there was nothing to complain about, quality-wise.

"I see," her mother said, apparently deciding not to make an issue of it this time. "Would you like to study with me later?"

Rika could have sighed, but held back. She glanced at her damaged clothing in the pile, and then noticed her mother had followed her gaze. Well, if she wanted to change things, she had to take her own steps to push them in the right direction. "I'd like you to fix my uniform," she said. She cringed, guessing she was unable to hide her annoyed tone.

"Oh." Her mother nodded, apparently not noticing. "I'd forgotten about that."

She then walked back into the kitchen. Rika was relieved to be left alone for the moment, but still bored. She lay down on the floor, playing with a piece of paper. Bored, bored, so boring. As it came time for dinner, her uniform still remained piled haphazardly in the same place. Rika pushed away her food.

"Are you not feeling well?"

Rika glanced her mother's way. This was a more gracious interpretation than was normally offered. "I'm just not hungry," Rika decided to say. "I'm going to go rest."

"Feel better then."

Rika had supposed she'd just lay down in the futon before she just went to sleep. But unfortunately, she really was hungry. Satiating herself with her mother's bad cooking had seemed like the last thing she'd wanted to do, but it turned out it was hard to go to sleep on an empty stomach. Now she wasn't just bored, but hungry as well. Why couldn't she do something about this miserable state?

Rika tried to be quiet as she got up, heading to the kitchen in the dark. There were no leftovers in the fridge, but that slop was unappealing, anyway. There were some ingredients that were being saved perhaps for an occasion tomorrow, but looked very appealing for that night. Rika could make much better use of them than her mother, anyway. She carefully took them out, deciding to make herself a feast.

"Rika?" As soon as she was almost done, the voice of her mother echoed through the room. "What are you doing?"

"Don't bother me," Rika muttered.

"What did you say?"

The tone of confusion implied that the order hadn't been heard, apparently for the best. "I was so hungry. Mii," Rika said, putting on her best innocent child affect.

"Well, you didn't eat dinner at all. Oh no, I was saving this."

"I'm almost done! Would you like some too?" Rika smiled, hoping her sweet affect would rub off so she could finish what she'd started.

A frown was given in response, though the meal was allowed to be finished. Rika placed it all out carefully. She ate herself, not caring what her mother did, though her invited guest did eventually eat along with her before pushing the food aside. "Who taught you to cook?" she asked.

Rika decided to ignore the question, pretending to be occupied as she cleaned up and put leftovers away. "I'm really tired now. I'm going back to sleep." Rika yawned in a way others had described as cute before. As she was about to make her escape from the conversation, she stopped, noting the folded clothing where her previously piled uniform had been. "You fixed it," Rika said, mostly to herself in astonishment as she grabbed the outfit.

"Yes. It's clean enough to wear tomorrow, so be sure to wear it."

So, this small event could be changed. Maybe it would lead to a chain reaction, causing more important, bigger problems to resolve. Maybe-

As Rika thought about it, her hand had traveled to wear the rip was. Inspecting it closer, she bit her lip. "It's wrong," she said. The lazy fix wouldn't last. It was too loose, and may even come apart the next day. "Such a small effort can't fix anything. How could you be so careless with this one thing I asked?"

Rika ignored any reaction of her mother who objected to her tone and prattled on. The sewing kit was found, and the stitches were ripped open, a true repair begun. Rika pulled at the fabric as she finished. This should last until she grew out of it. Tossing the clothing to where she'd find it easily, Rika decided to go to sleep.

"Who taught you to do this?" her mother asked, blocking her way as she observed the uniform.

"It doesn't matter," Rika said.

"It does matter. Answer me. I'd like to have a talk with them."

"You care about this, and not other things?"

"That's enough." Rika noted her mother's tone raising sharply.

Rika stared at the ground. Though it was the middle of the night, she couldn't push her mother that far. She'd pushed enough already just then. "If I explained why I know how to do these things, you wouldn't understand," she said softly.

"Don't be so disrespectful. Of course I'll understand. Tell me."

Rika noted her mother's folded arms, her cross expression. "Are you really ready to listen?" she asked.

"I asked you a question."

"Fine." Stepping into the room, Rika sat again at the table. "It's a long story."

Her mother nodded. Rika's heart felt lighter as the woman took a seat across from her. Maybe she could change things this way. This was her family, after all. "Some thing are bound to occur. I know about things because I experience them over, and over again."

"What do you mean?"

Rika bit her lip. This really was hard to explain to anyone, much less her mother. "I've lived this life before. Several times." Glancing up at her mother, the serious expression reflected that the words were being considered, so Rika continued. "I never make it that far into my life, though. In Showa 58, my death is guaranteed."

"Rika-"

The interruption let her knew know that the subject would be dropped. "It's not just me I'm worried about," Rika spoke quickly, trying to get it all out. "The Watanagashi deaths will soon become a series. On the night of the Watanagashi festival, Showa 56, you and Father will both die." Rika clenched her jaw as she saw hint in her mother's face she was being dismissed. "For Father, it's some kind of illness. Stress maybe? Then he should just calm down. And then you commit suicide because you think it's a curse? I'm the authority to tell you it's not Oyashiro-sama's curse, but even if it was, who cares? You can choose to live. Why don't you just chose to live? Is it so difficult to be a Furude, my mother?"

Rika's mother only closed eyes in response to this information, remaining in silence a moment after Rika had finished. "You really aren't feeling well, are you?" she said. "You can tell me about who's been talking to you like this later."

"You aren't going to listen, again? Fine, just die. Just die then. I can eat better food and move around freer. Why don't you die sooner if you're going to be so stupid?"

As her mother pulled her closer in a hug, Rika realized she'd started to cry in her rage. "I'm fine," the woman assured. "Showa 56, 57, 58, as the years go along, I'll be here to teach you things. Come to me first when you have questions. Alright?"

Rika nodded. Of course, her mother had imagined that people in the community were usurping her job as a parent. That was all she was focusing on in the moment. She wasn't going to listen to warning of the future, but then again, no one did. Rika shouldn't be too harsh about it, especially since they had a few years left together. The relationship should be at least minimally maintained for that short, yet tediously long period of time.

"Now, let's go back to sleep."

Rika held tight to her mother, resisting the effort to pull her back to sleep.

"What is it? You'll feel better after some rest, I'm sure."

The grip relaxed. The moment was done and it was useless to hold onto it. Crawling back into her futon, Rika tried to ignore the pain in her chest. Despite everything else, she really was going to miss that woman.


End file.
